


you take it on faith (you take it to the heart)

by Eisoj5



Series: won't back down [3]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Additional Tags to Be Added, Ensemble Cast, Established Relationship, F/M, M/M, Multi, Rating may go up, Slow Burn, let's do this, sequel time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 11:07:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21897301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eisoj5/pseuds/Eisoj5
Summary: What have you learned about putting your faith in one man?[The sequel toi guess i'll know when i get there.Begins...approximately five years after ROTJ.]
Relationships: Bodhi Rook/Luke Skywalker, Cassian Andor & Jyn Erso & Bodhi Rook, Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso, Chirrut Îmwe/Baze Malbus, Leia Organa/Han Solo
Series: won't back down [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/532201
Comments: 102
Kudos: 160





	1. Chapter 1

Bodhi’s never been able to fully relax whenever he’s in the Imperial Palace. 

He’s fine flying into Coruscant airspace, exploring the ruins of the library at the Jedi Temple, and venturing into the Senate Dome whenever he’s called upon to shuttle Baze to session or if he has a meeting himself. Even the few visits he’s made to the underworld only put him in mind of a busy market day in Jedha City, and it’s been pretty easy to remain safely anonymous down there unless Luke has reason to pull out his lightsaber. 

But there’s something about living in the Imperial Palace, however infrequently he’s here, that unsettles Bodhi. Luke doesn’t like it much either, though his objections mostly focus on the symbolism of it all, and if there’s anything he senses about the presence of the dark side, he’s keeping it to himself. 

It’s possible, Bodhi supposes, as he lies awake in their bed in the middle of the night, looking at the lights and shadows flickering on the ceiling and listening to Luke moving around in the kitchenette, that he’s just been uncomfortable with so much—comfort. The idea of having a spacious apartment on a Core World—_the_ Core World—would have been unimaginable to the boy growing up poor on Jedha, or to the underpaid and overworked Imperial cargo pilot trying to stay awake on his route. 

There’s nothing about the Palace that _should_ remind Bodhi of that part of his past; any traces of the final battles of the Civil War here have long since been scoured clean, or removed to a historical archive. No Imperial banners twist in the cool night breeze; no TIEs or Star Destroyers loom overhead like ominous clouds. Nothing explodes in flame and fear. 

_Maybe that’s why it just doesn’t feel like home,_ Bodhi thinks, wryly. 

The door to their apartment hisses open and then closed again. Bodhi frowns; it isn’t like Luke not to come back to bed, when they’ve had so little time together lately. 

Fortunately, he has a pretty good idea where Luke’s gone: the one place Bodhi _can_ call his own. He slips out from the blankets, pulls on a pair of sleeping shorts and slippers, without bothering to find a shirt—he hasn't felt the need to hide his scars in years—and heads up to their landing pad a few floors away. 

Where, as expected, Luke is sitting on the _Cadera’s_ ramp, gazing out across the lights of the ecumenopolis. His lightsaber hangs incongruously from the sash of the robe over his own sleeping clothes, as if he’d clipped it there by reflex. Despite his mild worry, Bodhi can’t help but smile at Luke’s adorably rumpled appearance; he’s gotten very good at presenting himself as a Jedi Knight over the years, and it’s nice to see him a little disheveled and undone now and then.

“Mind if I join you?” Bodhi calls, as he makes his way across the rooftop, the wind tugging at his loose hair. 

Luke looks up. “No, of course not.” He pats the ramp beside him. 

Bodhi drops onto the offered spot, stretching his legs out and leaning back on his elbows. “I’m not interrupting some new Jedi meditation technique where you drink—” he sniffs appreciatively at Luke’s mug— “Lando’s hot chocolate and stare into space, right?”

“I just wanted some fresh air, that’s all,” Luke says. He’s smiling, but his eyes are unfocused and distant, as if he’s gazing at something Bodhi once again can’t see. 

Bodhi nudges him with an elbow. “You sure that’s all?” 

“Couldn’t get back to sleep,” Luke says, slowly. “I dreamed of Obi-Wan. I think he came to say goodbye.”

“Oh.” Bodhi’s own recurring nightmare, of fierce green eyes behind a blaster, is fading quickly, as it usually does, and he puts Mara out of his mind again to try and focus on Luke’s palpable sadness. 

Luke’s smile goes a little crooked. “I bet if I’d decided to do the traditional riding of a krayt dragon he would’ve stuck around.” 

Bodhi snorts. “Yeah, maybe.” 

They sit in companionable silence for a while, listening to the sounds of speeder traffic while Bodhi tries to think of something comforting to say with his sleep-addled brain, and then Luke says, “I just wish he’d given me some more advice. Told me whether I’m doing the right thing, sending the new Force-sensitives to Chirrut for training in the old ways, instead of teaching them myself.”

“You’re teaching Leia,” Bodhi points out. “And Ben, I guess.” 

“A little, when I can,” Luke says. “I don’t—” He sighs. “I don’t know if it’s enough. Thousands of years of Jedi tradition, all coming down to what I can scavenge from hidden relics and sacred texts—” He snaps his mouth shut and turns his wide blue eyes on Bodhi. “I’m sorry. That’s not very fair of me.” 

Bodhi shrugs. The twinge of memory tastes less like sand, these days, and more like Baze’s favorite chav tea. “There’s almost forty Jedhans and only one of you.” 

“Still,” Luke says. 

Bodhi goes on, eager to draw Luke back from his brief foray into depression, “And you know the Guardians’ devotion to tradition means we’re gonna have to get through three whole days—”

“Oh, how terrible,” Luke murmurs, sliding his arm around Bodhi’s waist and pressing a kiss to his neck. “Three whole days in one place with all the people who love us.”

“Wearing fancy clothes.”

Luke huffs a laugh in his ear. “Having to dance.”

“Cassian and Jyn are going to blow us out of the sky on that anyway,” Bodhi says. He pauses. “If it ever gets _too_ bad I could always ask Kaytoo to smash something again?”

“I get it, you just don't want to get stuck talking to politicians,” Luke accuses him. He narrows his eyes. “Well, if you get to use Kaytoo as your exit strategy, I’m calling—_Ben_ as my out.”

“He’s been out of diapers for a couple years now,” Bodhi observes.

“Blast,” Luke says, lightly. He turns his head— “We’re over here, Threepio.”

“Hello, Master Luke, Master Bodhi,” Threepio says, as he shuffles up. “I’m terribly sorry to disturb you.”

“That’s all right,” Luke says. “What is it?” 

“Princess Leia sent me. She said you were in some kind of distress?”

Bodhi throws Luke a look. “You’ve been teaching her that?”

“Leia’s always been good at reading people,” Luke says, a touch smugly. “But—yeah, that’s just showing off. You can tell her I’m fine.”

“She _was_ genuinely concerned, sir. She mentioned that she hoped you were not about to ‘haul jets and elope’ after the effort she has put into your upcoming wedding—”

Bodhi smothers a startled snicker behind his hand. “Come to think of it, why _didn’t_ we?”

“Master Bodhi,” Threepio says, scandalized. 

Luke waves his hand. “Bodhi’s just kidding—we both know how important it is to observe protocol.”

“And follow tradition,” Bodhi says, affecting sincerity. 

“I’m very glad to hear that,” Threepio says. “I shall deliver the message, sir.”

“Thanks, Threepio.” 

Bodhi watches the golden droid walk away slowly, and then he gets to his feet and holds a hand out to Luke. “C’mon, I bet you’ll be able to get back to sleep in the _Cadera._ I’ll put out the bedrolls just like we used to.”

“In the good old days,” Luke says, dryly. But he lets himself be pulled to his feet, and together they go up into Bodhi’s ship. 

After they spread everything out, Luke’s eyes brighten, and he observes, cheerfully, “See, we definitely could’ve fit a krayt dragon in here and brought it to the ceremony.” 

Bodhi groans, but despite that—and his usual lingering worries—he settles back into Luke’s arms happily enough at last. 

_We’re going to be married. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some mouseover text that does not work on mobile; translations are in the end notes.

Despite the fact that he’s seen Baze wearing his Guardian's robes on numerous occasions since that first diplomatic mission to Abridon, the sight of the black and red swirling about Baze as he strides across the landing pad is still enough to make Bodhi stiffen in surprise and offer an awkward little formal bow. 

“Senator Malbus—” is all the greeting Bodhi manages to get out before Baze grabs him into a spine-crushing hug. 

“Thank the Force, you came to rescue me from all of the meetings,” Baze says. He releases Bodhi, but doesn't completely let go, holding him at arm’s length and grinning at him and Luke. “你帶我的丈夫嗎?”

“No, Denic’s bringing him and the kids,” Bodhi replies. He looks past Baze—“You lost your bodyguards again, huh.”

Baze shrugs. “It is not my fault they can’t keep up with an old man.” 

“Hard to think of you as old when you’re regularly defeating the students and running away from your bodyguards, Master Malbus,” Luke says, dryly, and beckons Baze up into the ship. 

Baze huffs a laugh as he follows. “我們要去接他姐姐?”

“You know they haven’t figured out who’s older,” Bodhi says, earning a crooked smile from Luke as he guesses at Baze’s meaning. “But yeah, Leia or—or Winter, probably, they’ve _gotta_ be done packing by now.” 

Back at the Imperial Palace landing pad, they still wind up waiting another fifteen minutes before Threepio totters out, carrying Leia’s luggage like he’s an FA-series droid. Artoo chirrups and rolls down the ramp to greet his counterpart, though he isn't the slightest bit of help in conveying Leia’s trunks up to the shuttle. 

“What’s taking her so long? And please don’t tell me she’s got even more stuff to bring,” Luke says, once they’ve gotten his sister’s belongings stowed away. “It’s only three days.”

Threepio says, “Princess Leia is finishing up a comm call with the Chancellor.”

“Right,” Luke says. 

“I’m sure it is very important business,” Threepio says. Artoo whistles disapprovingly, not quite enough for words, but it’s enough to make Threepio add, hastily, “Although nothing is as important as your wedding, of course, Master Luke—”

Bodhi throws Artoo a curious glance; he hadn’t expected the astromech to have become so invested in the wedding, but then, Artoo _had_ been the one to suggest the venue. 

“Sorry we’re late,” Leia says, sliding into the seat behind her brother and waving Winter to the last spot. She reaches forward and taps Bodhi’s shoulder. “Flight clearance is taken care of, let’s get outta here.”

Bodhi says, “I copy,” and lifts the _Cadera_ off. It's a matter of minutes to get clear of the flood of Coruscant traffic and into the glowing blue vortex of hyperspace, all the while half-listening to Leia going over her schedule with Winter for after they return to the planet. It’s full of meetings again, mostly committees Baze isn’t on, by the way he’s leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. 

“Threepio was just talking about how our wedding is also really important,” Luke says. Bodhi raises his eyebrows; Luke’s tone is mild, but there’s a hint of pique to it. 

Leia transitions smoothly and swiftly from her schedule to theirs, with a smirk. “So it took some doing, but Winter was finally able to confirm the Darklighter family is coming, and Silya and Jula are _more_ than happy to stand in for your aunt and uncle.” 

“That—that’s great,” Bodhi says, pleased; the older Darklighter children have commed occasionally about getting off-world and coming for a visit, but the timing of the harvest has kept it from working out. 

“Which means, on our side that’s all the Naberries, the Darklighters, me and Han—”

“I thought you said they don’t know who’s older,” Baze mutters at Bodhi. 

“Yeah, well.” Bodhi waves his hand helplessly at Leia. 

“—and on Bodhi’s side, the esteemed Senator Malbus and Master Îmwe, Cassian and Jyn—”

“And Kaytoo,” Bodhi says, loyally, prompting a squawk of astonishment from Artoo. 

“Not for the first night, surely,” Winter says. Her brow furrows slightly. 

“I can’t think of any such precedent,” Threepio puts in. 

Bodhi swiftly does the calculations in his head to include the rest of Luke’s family and comes up severely lopsided. 

_It should be all right._

_They_ are_ family, and it isn't as if Luke has his parents either—_

_But he’s bringing literal nobility to the party, and all I have are spies and ex-assassins—_

Luke puts a steadying hand on his knee, and Bodhi looks up into his eyes, willing away the anxiety that must be radiating out of him. “It—it’s just even more unbalanced, without Kaytoo,” he mutters. 

“If you leave out the Naberries—” Luke starts. 

“Not happening,” Leia says, firmly. 

“I keep telling you, I don’t even _know_ them!”

“Doesn’t matter. They’re hosting, _and_ it’ll look good to have Padmé’s family give their blessing.”

“Didn’t think you cared that much about what _looked_good, when you and Han got married in the middle of a forest with no one to _give their blessing_ except the Bright Tree chief,” Luke says. 

The memory breaks Bodhi out of his distress, and he smothers a snicker with his hand. “And Threepio, don’t forget they made Threepio give one too.” Artoo burbles in amusement, and a faint laugh rumbles out of Baze’s chest, though he doesn’t open his eyes. 

“A special memory for all of us,” Leia says. She attempts to pin Bodhi with a stare, but it’s lost some of its terrifying impact on him, mainly from having watched her and Luke constantly sniping at each other as if they’re making up for the nineteen years they were raised apart. 

Threepio says, “It was truly an honor, Your Highness, and I would be happy to offer the same blessing on this occasion, although I fear some of the meaning is lost in the Basic translation—”

Luke gives Winter a slightly horrified look, although the corners of his mouth are twitching upwards. 

“Thank you, Threepio,” Winter says, diplomatically. “I’ll see if there’s an opportunity for you to do so. Bodhi, in advance of your concerns, two of the pilots who flew with you in Rogue Squadron insisted on being counted as family for the sake of tomorrow’s ceremony.”

Bodhi’s eyes widen. “They did? Uh, which—which two, exactly?” In the co-pilot’s chair across from him, Luke shakes his head in answer to Bodhi’s unspoken _did you know?_

“Captain Joma and Captain Frix,” Winter replies. She tilts her head. “I assumed their inclusion would be acceptable, given their history with you?”

Bodhi glances at Baze, who’s deigned to open one eye—“Why are you looking at me? _I_ am not going to decide who else is your family or not.”

“Then yeah, let’s have ’em,” Bodhi says. He hesitates. “_And_ Kaytoo. Even if it’s only symbolic and he can’t actually—he should be a part of it. The—the first night.” 

“All right,” Winter says, as unruffled as ever, and makes a note on her datapad. 

Bodhi starts to settle back in his seat, relieved, but—

_If Kaytoo counts—_

“Threepio, Artoo, what about you? Do you want—I mean, I know there isn’t a _precedent_ for including droids in—in people’s ceremonies like this, but there isn’t a precedent for Jedi to get married, either, and if part of the point of having a really public wedding is to show the galaxy how things are changing, then _you’re_ just as much Luke and Leia’s family as—as anyone else.” Bodhi runs out of breath, feeling a little foolish; he’d prompted Luke to make a fuss about balancing the numbers, and now he’s just gone and thrown two more cards in. 

“Oh, no, Master Bodhi, I would never presume,” Threepio says, even as Winter raises her eyebrows and makes another notation on her datapad. “We are simply happy to bear witness to such a momentous occasion.” He taps Artoo’s dome. “Isn’t that right, Artoo?”

Artoo swivels his dome and chirps, _The children will be there?_

“Of course, Chirrut wouldn’t leave them on Dantooine by themselves—oh, you mean the Darklighters’ kids,” Bodhi says. “Yeah.”

_Then I will also witness I don't need tea poured in my sockets,_ Artoo warbles.

A grin tugs at Bodhi’s lips. “Okay. Just thought I’d ask.” 

“One of these days I’ve got to get around to learning Binary,” Luke says, ruefully. 

“Sure would be a lot harder for Artoo to keep secrets from you,” Bodhi agrees, earning an indignant blat from the astromech in response. 

“Any other issues or concerns for the two remaining _very public_ parts of your wedding?” Leia says, dryly. 

Conscious of everyone’s eyes on him, Bodhi says, “No—no, I trust you and Winter to handle all that stuff.” 

“Good,” Leia says, and to her brother, “Happy we talked about it now? We’re only going to spend the next three days immersed in wedding festivities.”

“Yeah, like you’re not gonna use it as a political opportunity to get some more votes for whatever it was Mon Mothma wanted,” Luke says. 

Leia frowns at him. “She and I weren’t talking about a bill, but yes, I probably _will_ talk to your guests about their support for the Historical Battle Site Preservation Act.”

Base leans forward at that, resting his hands on his thighs. “And I will talk to them about opposing it,” he says, his heavy brows drawing down.

“Oh, shit,” Bodhi murmurs to Luke. 

“_Really,_” Leia says. “I would have thought _you_, of all people, would vote for preservation?” 

“Of tradition, of our homes and sacred places,” Baze says. “Your act would say scavengers, anyone making a living selling scrap, salvage, they are criminals. Do you know where I got my repeater cannon?” Bodhi briefly wonders where it is; it hadn’t been among the few things he’d brought on board, and decides Chirrut probably doesn’t let him bring it to the Senate floor. 

“Yes,” Leia says. 

“I was already a criminal by then, but your proposal would say what I did, to defend myself and my home, that was illegal.” 

“I’m not looking to press charges against you or anyone else who did what they had to do in the past, Senator,” Leia says. “But we both—we _all_ know there’s a thriving market for relics from our homeworlds.” She glances at her brother. “Well, not yours.”

Luke shrugs. “Maybe if anyone ever bothered to figure out Tatooine’s where our father came from.” 

Leia casts the barest of sidelong looks at Bodhi; he licks his lips and does his best to keep his expression neutral. “Anyway, I’m sure you can agree that we don’t want to encourage souvenir hunters.” 

Baze grunts his acknowledgement of that. 

“Hey, where does that leave _me?_” Luke asks. “And the Jedi relics the Force is guiding me to find?” His face falls. “Blast, I’m going to have to come to the debates, aren’t I.” 

“A good idea,” Leia says. “But that’s different than, say, people collecting Imperial memorabilia. Which is partly what the act will address, so we can track down members of the Remnant who seem hellbent on reviving their cause.”

Unease sends a ripple down Bodhi’s spine, and he asks, “Is that what you were talking to Mon Mothma about?” 

Leia sighs, and nods. She looks weary, and Bodhi hopes she can get some rest before they meet up with Han and Ben and the ceremonies start in earnest. “There was a raid on Obroa-skai. We lost an entire Elomin task force, and whoever it was got away with a considerable chunk of information from the Archive. It’ll be a while before our analysts can figure out what they were looking for, or who _they_ even are.”

Bodhi grimaces. “It wasn’t that—that Isard who Cassian and I tangled with on Thyferra?” 

“Doesn’t seem like her style,” Leia says. 

Baze nudges Winter, and she reflexively hands him the relevant datapad; despite their argument and everything Bodhi knows about his “criminal” past, Baze fits right in with Leia’s diplomatic corps as if the Guardians had trained him for that life, too. “You put Jyn on it?” 

“Of course.” Leia notices Luke’s started to fidget, idly spinning one of Bodhi’s hydrospanners in midair, and she adds, “Though all this can wait until after the wedding.” She leans over and pokes him. “You’ve got me for a few hours, let’s go train.”

Luke catches the hydrospanner and drops it into Bodhi’s open hand. “What? Oh, sure, if you want. Master Malbus, care to join us? Bodhi?” 

“No, go ahead without me.” Bodhi waves the hydrospanner at the console. “Got a few things I want to check.”

“And you didn’t do that before you took two Senators and the last of the Jedi on board? Sounds like excuses to me.” Baze groans exaggeratedly as he gets to his feet and stretches. 

“I’m sure Luke will be happy to give me one-on-one time later,” Bodhi says, blandly, and smirks to himself as the tips of Luke’s ears turn pink. 

“Suit yourself,” Leia says. She, Luke, and Baze go aft into the hold. 

Winter doesn’t lift her eyes from her datapad as she asks, “Everything all right, Captain?”

“Yeah,” Bodhi answers. “Just looking over the sensors.” 

“If you don’t need me, Master Bodhi, I’ll switch off for a little while,” Threepio says. 

Bodhi nods, and for the next several minutes the cockpit is quiet, except for the hum of the _Cadera’s_ engines and the occasional bark of laughter from the hold over the percussive clashing of Luke and Leia’s practice sticks. He relaxes into those familiar rhythms, letting his thoughts drift while he works; whatever new problems Leia’s going to put in front of them _can_ wait a few days. They’ve dealt with jumped-up governors and various dissatisfied factions in the Imperial Remnant ever since the Battle of Jakku, and although going up against Isard hadn’t been pleasant, at least it hadn’t been _Mara_ trying to carve out a garrison state for herself. 

He shakes that off—it’s strange how often he’s had to put aside worrying about what Mara might be up to, ever since the fall of the Empire—and sets his jaw, determined to focus on the excitement of the upcoming weekend and the start of his new life with Luke. It’ll be great to see Cassian and Jyn, and Wedge’s family, even if he suspects Wedge is plotting something with the Rogues to make the event particularly memorable. 

Some time later, the console beeps the alert that they’re coming up on their destination, and Bodhi calls back, “Dropping out of hyperspace, hold onto something, or, I dunno, use the Force—” before gently pulling back on the lever. 

Luke’s happy, delighted laugh rings out in the hold, and Bodhi can’t help but smile at the stars as they streak back into a million points of light. Leia might need the wedding for her political agenda, but that almost doesn’t matter. Not when people around all the stars out there are going to learn just how much Luke loves him, how Luke’s made his life infinitely brighter, _better_, than he could have ever imagined. 

Luke and Leia pile back into their seats, sweaty and grinning at each other. Baze follows, grumbling something half-heartedly at them about respecting their elders—

“Is _Leia_ beating you now too?” Bodhi asks, impertinently, and gets a swat to his arm for it. 

Luke smiles at him, but his attention is drawn to the planet rapidly filling the viewport. “Would you look at that,” Luke breathes, and Bodhi reaches over and squeezes his hand, still charmed after all their explorations by how easily he’s awed by the sight of another planet. It’s about as far from a desert world as any place Bodhi’s ever been except maybe Mon Cala; it’s a vibrant green, with gossamer white clouds like lace in the atmosphere. 

Leia leans forward over Luke’s shoulder; she’s wearing nearly the same smile as her brother, with an additional hint of satisfaction. “Time to make honest men out of you at last. Welcome to Naboo.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \o/ Getting back into the swing of writing fic chapters more often than once a month is interesting, lol. I'm gonna do my best. 
> 
> As always, thanks, dear readers! WEDDING SHENANIGANS AHOY! And thanks to morag for the beta and for poking at me to get in gear already!!
> 
> <3 <3 <3
> 
> Translations:  
你帶我的丈夫嗎?: You brought my husband?  
我們要去接他姐姐?: We're going to pick up his [older] sister?


	3. Chapter 3

There’s plenty of time to settle in at the Naberrie family retreat, a spectacular island villa called Varykino. 

Which turns out to be pretty necessary, because even though Bodhi and Luke both know that his mother came from wealth and power and royalty, seeing it—from the moment the seaskimmer drops them off at the private dock hidden in the foliage, to the way the household staff treats Luke and Leia, to the downright _huge_ bedroom suite they’ve been given—

“You’re feeling it too, right?” Bodhi asks, helplessly, once the housekeeper’s bowed her way out of the room and they’re alone again until the first ceremony in the afternoon. He wants very badly to flop down on the bed and kick his boots off, but it doesn’t seem totally appropriate. “I mean—you get treated well lots of places we go, for being who you are, but this is—this is—”

“Overwhelming?”

“Practically something out of one of those holovids about your parents,” Bodhi says. “You know, one of the really high budget ones? Not the—”

“I thought we weren’t gonna mention those while we’re here?” Luke _does_ flop down on the bed, and throws an embroidered pillow at him before he starts taking off his boots. 

“Which ones, the porn vids?” Bodhi dodges another pillow, but Luke cheats and pulls it around in midair with the Force to smack him in the back, sending him sprawling onto the bed next to Luke. 

“I sincerely wish Han had never discovered those existed,” Luke mutters. “I thought Leia was actually about to murder him—good thing Ben was playing with Hera’s kid and didn't see any of it.” He rolls over onto his stomach to inspect the remaining pillow on the bed, finely embroidered with subtle gold and silver threads. “But now that you mention it, it _is_ a little much. D’you think these are vine-silk?”

“Not even your royal cousins would spring for vine-silk pillowcases, that’s Jabba-level shit.” 

“You’re right,” Luke says. “Hey, what’s going on with you? _You’ve_ been getting the ‘hero’ treatment just as long as I have, and I thought you were done feeling weird about that.” He gazes up at Bodhi through his eyelashes, a smile stealing gradually across his lips. “If you’re worried about fitting in with the rich and beautiful, you really shouldn’t be. And if I know anything about weddings—”

“You don't, but okay—”

“You’re _supposed_ to outshine everyone else,” Luke says, cheerfully. 

Bodhi snorts, but he leans over and kisses the top of Luke’s head. He takes a breath and lets it out again, slowing himself down. “Sorry. I think I’m just nervous, now that we’re really here, and—and looking for something to worry about.” 

Luke hugs the pillow to his chest and gazes at Bodhi for a moment. “Do you want to talk about it more, or do you want to do something else, try and take your mind off it?” 

“Something—something else,” Bodhi says, half-expecting Luke to reach across and pull him closer. 

But Luke rolls off the bed and to his feet, beckoning the stray pillows back into place with a wave of his hand. There’s a familiar gleam in his eye. “Then let’s go swimming. We’ve got all morning to explore, and the Force to guide us.”

“And a waterproof chrono, I hope,” Bodhi mutters, but he sits up obligingly to unlace his boots. 

*

They spend an hour paddling around Varykino’s secluded shore and looking at the other islands in the lake from afar. Bodhi likes the way the trees bend down to the water like deep green curtains, although pushing through some of the leafy branches startles a small flock of quadducks into noisy, splashing flight. 

“What in blazes were those?” Luke wipes water out of his face and laughs. 

Bodhi raises his eyebrows. “The—ducks?” 

To which Luke says, “_Ohh_,” as if it’s a revelation on par with discovering he could use the Force.

Bodhi grins. “You—”

“No!_ You_ didn’t know either until you learned about ’em at the Academy, there’s no way you had ducks at home—” Luke sweeps his arm through the water, sending a wave at Bodhi.

Snickering, Bodhi splashes him back and then starts to swim away. Luke’s gotten better at swimming with every trip to Sanctuary, though, and he catches up more quickly than Bodhi’s expecting, promptly drenching him with another surge of water. 

Bodhi yelps and grabs for Luke, attempting to dunk him; Luke knows better than to cheat with the Force when they’re messing around like this, and simply uses his normal strength to hold Bodhi at bay. The sun, lake, and Luke are warm, and as they scuffle and splash Bodhi could almost imagine they’re on Sanctuary together, with no one around to—

“Just what kinda example are you two setting for my kid?” 

Bodhi stops trying to shove Luke’s head underwater and looks up. They’ve swum back around to the Varykino docks, and standing above them, silhouetted in the mid-morning sunlight, are Han and Ben, with Chewbacca looming over them. Han’s got both hands on his hips, but his smirk belies his posture and tone. 

“Can’t be any worse than what he’s learning from you,” Luke calls up to them. “Hi, Ben.”

“Hi Uncle Luke, Uncle Bodhi,” Ben says, in his serious little voice. Bodhi waves at him—frowns at Luke, because _he_ hasn’t stopped grinning mischievously at Han—

“Don’t even think about it,” Han warns, backing slowly away from the edge of the dock and pointing a finger at Luke. 

Luke flicks drops of water up at him. “Come on in, Han, the water’s fine.”

“Leia—_your sister’s_ expecting us to show up ready to go, don’t you go jerking me around with your magic powers like I'm your lightsab—aah!” Han windmills his arms for a second, looking profoundly surprised, before falling into the water face-first with a tremendous splash. 

Bodhi laughs; Han surfaces spluttering and lunges for Luke, swearing a blue streak. 

“It wasn’t me! It wasn’t me!” Luke yells, wrestling free, and then they all look up at—

—_Ben,_ who giggles, and then jumps straight off the dock—

“_You can’t swim!”_ Han shouts in horror, over Chewbacca howling the same—

—and Bodhi barely gets his arms up to catch him in time. 

“I can swim,” Ben says, kicking his legs out backwards and splashing in Bodhi’s grasp, fully trusting. Bodhi squints to try and keep the water Ben’s flinging everywhere out of his eyes; this would be the perfect time to have his goggles, but of course they’re back on his ship at the spaceport. “Mama said I had to learn ‘cause _you’re_ a spacer and Uncle Luke and Uncle Bodhi are desert rats but half the galaxy has water.” 

“Desert rats?” Bodhi’s heart is still pounding, and from the look on Luke’s face they’d been equally startled by Ben’s impulsive leap, but if there hadn’t been a warning from the Force Ben probably hadn’t been in danger anyway. 

“Ben, holding onto Mama—or Uncle Bodhi—and practicing kicking isn’t swimming,” Han says, sculling over awkwardly and taking his son out of Bodhi’s arms. His grip’s a bit tight, and Ben wriggles once before he settles happily against Han’s chest and starts kicking up water again. 

“Neither of us is as big as a womp rat,” Luke says to Bodhi, with a shrug. “I don’t know what she’s talking about.” He looks up at Chewbacca. “Planning to join us?” 

Chewbacca growls that of course he’s not, his fur would never dry in time, but that he’s glad the cub is having fun. 

“Since that goes for me, too, I think I’ll stay right here on the shore where it’s safe,” Leia calls, from where she’s come down to greet her family. She casts a longing look at the water, though, and Bodhi suspects that despite her busy schedule back on Coruscant, she’ll find a way to come play with her son. 

“Mama!” Ben says, almost managing to squirm out of Han’s grasp. Chewbacca rumbles worry and goes to one knee, reaching his long furry arms down to pull Ben out of the water with a boost from Han. Once he’s set on his feet on the dock, Ben runs up the stone steps towards Leia—and then almost skids to a stop on the path above as he takes in his mother’s dry clothes and his own thoroughly soaked ones. A frown creases his little mouth. 

“Oh, it’s fine, we’re all going to go change our clothes in a minute,” Leia says, beckoning, and Ben barrels into her for a hug. 

“He’s so cute and thoughtful,” Luke says to Han, who rolls his eyes but can’t hide the pleased quirk of his mouth. 

Bodhi adds, “I know we saw him a couple weeks ago, but I swear he just keeps getting taller.” 

“Yeah, he’ll be as tall as Leia pretty soon,” Han replies. 

“I heard that.” Leia smiles down at Ben, smoothing his wild and wet hair on his head, and he wiggles again impatiently, eager to run and see everything around him now that he’s found his mother. She exchanges a glance with Chewbacca. “Yes, okay, you can explore as long as Chewie can see you and you come up to the house in time to get changed.”

“He’s all wet,” Han says, climbing out onto the dock. 

Leia gives him a look and says to Ben, “And as long as you don’t mind running around in your wet clothes.” 

“I don’t mind,” Ben answers, with the surety of the young. He pulls free of Leia and immediately bolts in the direction of a nearby fountain. Chewbacca follows, though not before telling Leia she’d better step up the swimming lessons for both Ben _and_ Han. 

“He’s one to talk,” Han grumbles, and then he turns his sardonic stare back down at Bodhi and Luke. “What were you two doing floating around here anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be contemplating your navels or your place in the universe or some other Jedi-Guardian shit so you can get married with a clear conscience?”

Luke gapes at him. “_Wow.”_

“Definitely gonna tell Chirrut you made up a bunch of garbage about our ancient traditions,” Bodhi says, lightly. 

“He’d probably think it was funny,” Han says, and Bodhi privately admits he could be right. 

Leia says, “Whatever it is you’re up to, Jyn commed from the spaceport a few minutes ago, so unless you’re planning to drip all over the ancestral floor while you’re doing your thing—?”

“Feeling better?” Luke murmurs to Bodhi. 

He nods. 

“Good,” Luke says, and heaves himself up on the dock, giving Bodhi a hand up after. “Yeah, yeah, we’re coming.” 

*

Over the years since the end of the war, Bodhi _has_ gotten used to being stared at, although he’s also more than happy to slip into Luke’s shadow when the situation calls for a Jedi and not a pilot. But Luke isn’t overshadowing him in the slightest as they walk into the Room of Morning Mists together; if anything, Luke has completely committed to making sure Bodhi stands out, by wearing a practically understated black jacket embroidered with Jedhan designs in gold. Bodhi is in red because Chirrut and Baze and the weight of his own memories wouldn’t have it any other way, though the closure of what would otherwise be a traditional Jedhan jacket mimics Luke’s Jedi tunic. 

Bodhi grips Luke’s hand tighter as everyone rises to greet them, a sudden thrill sparking to life in his chest at the sight of Cassian and Jyn in their elegant finery. Kaytoo’s normally matte plating’s been buffed to a shine, too, and there’s something different about his posture, as if he’s standing even taller than usual. Luke squeezes Bodhi’s hand in return, reassuring even though Bodhi doesn’t really need it. 

“Welcome,” Sola Naberrie says, from her place in the center. Her smile and her regal bearing are very much like Leia’s. 

“Thank you for hosting us,” Luke says, inclining his head in a bow, which Bodhi promptly follows. 

“It is a pleasure to have Padmé’s children here in our home, with the people they love,” Sola says. “And an honor, to be a part of your wedding ceremonies.” She sits back down on a chair Bodhi’s certain costs more than tuition to Wedge’s flight school, and at that signal, the rest of their assembled guests take their seats around the circumference of the room and Winter brings over the tea tray. 

“Master Îmwe, if you would?” Winter asks. 

Chirrut grins in Bodhi and Luke’s direction, and he pushes himself up with the help of his staff. Like Baze, he’s out of formal Guardian robes, instead wearing a remarkably stylish suit. “I will save the blessings and prayers for tomorrow, since everyone agreed that will look good for the holocameras,” he says. 

Bodhi huffs a laugh that’s echoed by the chuckle that ripples around the room; next to Chirrut, Baze nudges Jyn and mutters something inaudibly. 

“So today I will say, this is an old, old tradition, for the people getting married to show respect to the elders who raised them, and to symbolize the joining together of their families. Since none of Luke and Bodhi’s parents or guardians are with us except in spirit—”

—Bodhi sneaks a sideways peek at Luke, but he isn’t doing the gazing-at-nothing thing that sometimes implies a Force ghost might be around, his eyes focused on Chirrut—

“—this ceremony is about bringing together the families they have _chosen_.” Chirrut’s grin widens. “Also some people who insisted they had to be included.” 

“And two _actual_ Guardians,” Luke teases. 

“_I_ was not going to mention that,” Chirrut says, virtuously. “Anyway, they serve us tea, we give them presents, then we go eat.” He sits down and waves his hand at Bodhi. “Explain what the tea is so Baze knows you are not going to pour him a cup of tarine.” 

“I will. Thank you, Ustad Îmwe.” Bodhi feels a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as Baze’s eyebrows climb curiously. “The tea—it’s nothing fancy, not—not really, we wanted something to represent us coming together, like Chirrut said. So, um, it’s a blend of chav tea from Jedha, and h’kak bean tea from Tatooine, and even the color wound up sort of in between the colors of our homeworlds.” 

Luke takes that as his cue to carefully lift the teapot from Winter’s tray and pour. The numerous conversations Bodhi had with Threepio about the importance of getting it right might have overloaded the poor droid’s circuits, but the pale orange tea looks and smells exactly as Bodhi’s hoped, ever since they started planning. 

From their position in the middle of the room it’s only a single step forward for Luke to offer his aunt the first cup; he bows low over it, and Sola smiles again, and reaches her hand up to touch his cheek before she accepts the cup and drinks. Out of the corner of his eye Bodhi sees Leia take a shaky breath, unnoticed by almost everyone else except Han, who puts his hand on her knee. 

But Bodhi can’t try to parse what that means for very long, because it’s his turn to serve Sola’s husband Darred Janren, an unassuming human man who could probably go toe-to-toe with Cassian in terms of blending into the scenery. Darred gives Bodhi a nearly inscrutable look over the edge of the teacup as he drinks, and then he sets the cup aside and pulls a datachip out of his suit jacket pocket. 

“Our primary gift to you is the use of this house, and the freedom to return to it whenever you like,” Sola says. Luke’s eyes widen in surprise, mirroring Bodhi’s, but she isn’t done. “The other gift we would like you to have is a copy of the founding documents of the Refugee Relief Movement, which Luke’s grandfather and Princess Leia’s paternal aunt created, and for which my sister volunteered as a child.” 

Darred presses the datachip into Bodhi’s hand. “They would’ve liked the work you’ve been doing the past few years.” 

Bodhi murmurs his thanks, as does Luke, and then they both turn to the Guardians. Chirrut sniffs the tea Luke serves him appreciatively, inclining his head in acknowledgement and respect. Baze cradles the delicate cup in one big hand and says, gruffly, “This wasn’t my idea,” as he leans over to retrieve their gift from beneath his seat. 

Luke’s face reddens as Bodhi starts to laugh. “An egg slicer, Master Îmwe, really?” 

Cassian’s doing a poor job of hiding his sudden bright grin behind his hand, and there’s some rustling from Luke’s side of the room as people try to see the gift. The expression on Chirrut’s face is positively wicked as he replies, “Yes, Luke, it’s a traditional Jedhan relic, handed down from generation to generation—”

“And we will treasure it always,” Bodhi cuts in hurriedly, bowing before Chirrut can start spinning a ludicrous tale around its sacred origins or something. Luke’s shoulders shake with silent, slightly mortified amusement as he bows again, too, and hands the egg slicer to Threepio to place on the gifts table. 

Then it’s over to Silya and Jula Darklighter, whose “humble” present of a Tatooinian spice rack has Luke promising to finally make braised fork tarts for Bodhi—

“Which goes with Jedhan egg curry,” Chirrut says, delightedly, to Luke’s neverending dismay. 

Silya also whispers something for Luke’s ears alone; he casts a quick glance at Leia and she raises her eyebrows and nods, as if to say _message received_. 

After the Darklighters is Rex. 

The past few years have worn on him, but his eyes are alert as always, shining with surprising emotion when Luke stops in front of him. It had been—awkward, when he’d commed to ask if he could stand in for Anakin, but fortunately Bodhi had been out of view, Leia hadn’t been there at all, and Luke’s improved his sabacc face considerably whenever it comes to talking about his father. 

Rex takes the ceremonial sip of his tea and hands the cup off to Winter, eagerness animating his lined face. His gift, unlike the others so far, is actually wrapped in a piece of coarseweave. “You’ll think I’m a sentimental old fool,” he says.

Luke smiles. “Never.” 

“Well, you _might,”_ Rex says. “Seeing as how I’ve been carrying these relics around since before you were born. ‘Course, they weren’t relics back then, and neither was I.” He lifts aside a fold of the coarseweave and reveals a battle-scarred pair of plastoid gauntlets, and even more inexplicably to Bodhi’s eyes, a broken-off throttle lever. “Your father’s gauntlets from the Clone War. I know Jedi didn’t like to wear armor much; hard to fight the way they did with all that extra weight, but sometimes Gen—Anakin—your father would go to the trouble.” 

Bodhi touches Luke’s elbow gently; he’s looking a little misty-eyed himself. “Thank you, Commander,” Luke says, taking the bundled gauntlets from Rex. He runs a fingertip over the scrapes and scratches in the plastoid, and for a moment Bodhi thinks he might actually try one on. But he just bows again, and raises his eyebrows expectantly at Rex to explain the other relic. 

Rex shrugs; the fond smile is twisting into a kind of amused smirk. “Even the best pilot of our generation had his off days. Took that piece from the wreck of the _Invisible Hand_.” He turns his right hand palm up to indicate that it’s for Bodhi. 

“The—the ship that crashed on Coruscant?”

“Yep,” Rex says. “Was saving that one to give Anakin some static on his birthday sometime, but—” he shrugs again, and Bodhi suppresses a wince. “Then they were just mementos of an old friend. Which I’m glad I can pass on to you, now.” 

“Thank you,” Bodhi says, softly. There’s a lump forming in his throat, as often happens whenever anyone talks about Luke and Leia’s parents with the kind of reverence Rex does; but they’d long since decided to keep the true tragedy from those whose hearts would only be broken by it. 

Rex sees something of his feelings in his face, though, and when he presses the lever into Bodhi’s hand he holds on for a second longer, glances over at the Naberries. “Us clones always had a feeling about him ‘n Padme, and it was—” he shakes his head. “It’s good, you and Luke, changing things up so you don’t have to hide it. Letting the rest of us share the joy, y’know.” 

Bodhi nods, and musters up another smile for him; he very carefully does _not_ look in Leia’s direction. Luke’s face isn’t quite to sabacc-playing levels, but the calm in his eyes he’s worked so hard to achieve as a Jedi is just a shade wrong, not enough for anyone other than Bodhi or Leia or maybe Han to be able to tell. 

Once more on his side, Jyn and Cassian’s gifts are—well, judging by the way Cassian’s face has gone carefully blank, Bodhi thinks they’re mostly Jyn’s ideas. “Right, so this whole thing is about family,” Jyn says. “You knew my father probably better than I did, by the end, so you’ll have to tell me if you think he would’ve been happy that I’m giving you his Kuat engineering medal.” It’s a bit brusque, even for her, but underneath her tone and upraised chin, Bodhi can sense her deep affection for him and Luke both. 

Bodhi leans down to kiss first her cheek, and then Cassian’s, murmuring, “Do I wanna know how she got her hands on it?” 

“Probably not,” Cassian answers. 

Jyn gives her husband a tight smile and presents the other part of their—_definitely _her—gift to Luke. Bodhi’s heart skips a beat at the sight of the palm-sized clear crystal, but Luke’s expression merely goes quizzical, rather than awed. “Sorry it’s not kyber, I know you’re still looking for more. It came from Espinar, where my parents met.” 

“And where they fell in love, allegedly,” Kaytoo says. Bodhi smothers a laugh and catches Jyn pressing her lips together to do the same. 

“It’s beautiful,” Luke says, sincerely. 

“I am constantly tripping over them in our house,” Kaytoo says. He turns his glowing eyes on Bodhi. “I cannot drink your tea, and I don’t have your present.” 

“That’s all ri—” Bodhi starts. 

“I left it at the dock,” Kaytoo continues. “I heard about your most recent swimming excursion, and it sounded like you needed it.” 

Comprehension washes over Luke’s face at the same time as another wave of mild embarrassment, but he just says, “Thanks, Kaytoo.” 

Bodhi bows to his friend, and when he straightens up Kaytoo places his hand on Bodhi’s shoulder. “You _will_ need it,” he says, cryptically. 

“O—Okay,” Bodhi says. “Thanks?” 

“You’re welcome.” 

When it’s his turn, Han throws back the cup of tea like it’s a shot, grinning alarmingly. “Guess what we got you.” 

“What _he_ got you,” Leia says. “_I_ got you a bottle of Toniray—” Bodhi’s eyes widen, and she gives him a knowing look along with the teal-colored wine. “The real thing, not the stuff people have been trying to pass off as Alderaanian.”

“I haven’t been trying to pass this off as anything,” Han says, presenting Luke an all-too horrifyingly familiar clear bottle. 

“Oh, _no,_ not again,” Bodhi says, helplessly, remembering the eye-watering fumes, and behind him Jyn laughs. 

“Don’t drink it all at once,” Han advises them. He tilts his head towards Leia. “Or hers, either.” 

Luke says, “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He makes a little, almost-mocking bow towards Han; stoops low to kiss Leia’s cheek. 

“You shouldn’t have,” Bodhi mutters, as he leans in to kiss Leia’s other cheek. 

“I wanted to,” she says, simply, and smiles. 

Finally, Bodhi and Luke come around the room to Joma and Grizz, and serve them the last two cups of tea. Bodhi suspiciously eyes their matching, overly-innocent expressions, and then Grizz whistles—

—and the MSE droid whirs out from under his chair, beeping a disconcertingly familiar melody. On top of its tiny chassis is are two neatly wrapped packages of—

“Oh my everloving stars, _you didn’t—”_

—Hungry Hutt breakfast sandwiches.

“Hey, I love these!” Luke exclaims, and Bodhi’s totally unable to stem the flood of laughter that pours out of him. Joma’s solemnity breaks into a warm smile and a conspiratorial wink at Bodhi. 

“Well, I think that wins for _weirdest_ gift,” Han says, dryly, as Bodhi and Luke finish thanking his friends. “Winter, is that what we’re having for dinner?”

Winter’s far too well-bred to let her horror at the idea show, even as Leia rolls her eyes and elbows Han in the side. “The Naberrie family has kindly provided a Naboo-style meal for us, although I think there is one more component to this ceremony before we go in to dinner.” 

At that, the older Darklighter kids sitting in the windows put down their datapads to pay attention; Rasca’s developed a truly astonishing facial expression of apathy as an adolescent, but Bodhi supposes the prospect of finally getting to do something else in this amazing place has its appeal. Ben, who’s been playing along the curtained circumference of the room with Anya Darklighter, stops whatever game they’ve devised to climb into his mother’s lap to watch the end of the ceremony, cradling Anya’s starfighter model to his chest. 

“Yeah, there is,” Luke says. “Artoo, you ready?” 

Artoo burbles happily, rolls over to them, and pops open an internal compartment facing Luke, and extends one of his grasping arms to Bodhi. 

“Let us drink our tea first,” Luke admonishes Artoo, amused. Artoo trills acknowledgement, and rolls back a few centimeters so Luke can offer a cup to Bodhi. It’s sweeter than either chav or h’kak bean tea on their own, and warm as the late-evening sands of Tatooine, or the sun in Jedhan summer. 

Bodhi fills his own teacup, and presents it to Luke; his blue eyes sparkle over the edge of the cup as he drinks, and then Artoo bumps into their legs, insisting _get on with it stop staring into each others’ eyes we’re all waiting!_

“Okay, okay,” Luke laughs, and after he sets his cup down he reaches over to retrieve his gift from the compartment. Bodhi takes his gift from Artoo’s grasping arm, his heartbeat accelerating eagerly. 

“Remember you have to tell me what you’re giving each other,” Chirrut calls, a slightly feigned edge to his voice. “Baze’s going to cry and then he won’t be able to tell me what it is.” 

Bodhi’s mouth twitches. He holds his up for Baze to see, and although Baze doesn’t exactly tear up, he does make a faint sound of approval in the back of his throat. “My gift is an Old Jedha knot that I drilled so—so it’s on a string.” 

“Ah, a traditional choice,” Chirrut says. “Very nice. Luke?”

“I told you about digging fish fossils out of the canyons back home,” Luke says. “That time we tried to go fishing.” He opens his hand, and lying in his palm is a small, highly polished fossil, a cord coiled around it. It’s probably about as valuable as Bodhi’s knot coin—which is to say, not at all—but it’s _perfect._

Chirrut thumps the butt of his staff on the floor. “好. Now you exchange them.” 

Luke huffs a laugh, but he does as directed, running his thumb over the raised symbols on the coin before he ties it around his neck. Bodhi admires the fish bones standing out pale against the sand-colored stone; has to flip his long hair out of the way to fasten the jerba-leather cord in place. And then he looks up at Luke again, the old, wonderful feeling of lightness rising in his chest as Luke reaches over and takes his hand, the late afternoon sunlight streaming in the open windows turning his eyes the color of a clear blue sky. 

“Technically, under old Jedhan tradition, you’re married now,” Chirrut says, delightedly. He gets to his feet again, and around him all of their friends and family stand to clap and cheer. “But if you thought _this_ was something, just wait ‘til _tomorrow._” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Still, even a duck has to be taught to swim."
> 
> "What's a duck?"  
[―Obi-Wan Kenobi and Luke Skywalker](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Star_Wars_Episode_IV:_A_New_Hope_\(novel\))
> 
> [Luke's black and gold outfit](https://www.instagram.com/p/B3VIM0hAO3e/)   
[Bodhi's red and gold outfit](https://www.nihalfashions.com/product/red-jaquard-silk-brocade-indo-western-nmk-3455)
> 
> 好: Good
> 
> And a pile of references back to IGIKWIGT, haha. XD
> 
> Thank you, dear readers, for reading!!! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 And thanks to Morag for nudging and poking me along!!! More, yes, MORE wedding shenanigans to come!!

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome, dear readers, to the long-planned and yet somehow not _quite_ Planned Enough sequel! Circumstances have changed a lot from when I started IGIKWIGT to now, but I do intend to plug away steadily at this story until I...well, you know. Get there. XD I'm excited to have you along for the next part of the journey <3
> 
> Thanks as always to moragmacpherson for keeping an eye on the "lingerie!"
> 
> I ALMOST FORGOT. I went on Not Now, I'm Reading to talk about IGIKWIGT and Star Wars (pre-TROS)! https://nnirpodcast.wordpress.com/2019/12/16/all-things-star-wars-with-josie/
> 
> And, as 2019 draws to a close soon, I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season, and may 2020 see the return of the light!!


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